


I Wanna Hold Your Hand

by chucklehoneybear



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Blood and Injury, Confessing Feelings, Cute, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Bickering, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak's Shorts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentioned Henry Bowers, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Self-Esteem Issues, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris is a Good Friend, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, drunk talk, eddie kaspbrak and richie tozier through the years, i included that last tag just because, very cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23970475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucklehoneybear/pseuds/chucklehoneybear
Summary: “Don’t ‘Eds’ me right now, asshole, I’m getting you to a hospital.” Without thinking, Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand. To his surprise, Richie flinched away.“Wha-“ Eddie stammered.“Don’t do that shit!” Richie gritted his teeth and winced.“Do what?” Eddie blinked, confused and a little bit hurt.“THIS!” Richie gestured to his hand. “It’s so…” he looked around nervously, making sure no one was nearby. “…gay,” Richie hissed out the word.OR Four Times Eddie held Richie's hand.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 149





	I Wanna Hold Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys like this through-the-years relationship development type of fic! Be warned: language!

**7 years old**

“Richie Tozier.” The gangly boy stuck out a hand and introduced himself to the much smaller boy sitting beside him.

“What the hell Richie?” he was met with a rather unfriendly glare. “We literally met yesterday.”

“It’s called manners, Eds! Besides, I kind of forgot your last name, so here’s me asking.” He continued to hold out his hand until the other boy reluctantly shook it.

“It’s Eddie Kaspbrak,” he hissed out the last word. “And don’t start calling me Eds, you’ll start popularizing this nickname that I don’t even like, and people will use it all the time! I don’t want- WHAT THE HELL, RICHIE!” Eddie yelped as Richie tightened his grip on his hand. “Let. Me. Go!” he winced as Richie laughed even harder and gripped tighter. Images of broken bones and bruises flashed through Eddie’s mind, causing him to reel.

“Not until you say ‘Richie is awesome and I love him’.” Richie cackled and squeezed harder.

“In your dreams,” Eddie huffed, determined not to succumb to his less than sensible demand. He tried with all his might to pull away, but he was too weak, just like his Mommy said he would be compared to the other boys at school. Too weak to stand up for himself, because he was delicate, more fragile somehow.

“Eds, just say that, and I’ll let go!” Richie wagged his finger tauntingly in front of Eddie’s face, and Eddie scrunched up his face in rage.

“Eff you, Richie!” he winced in pain, and the other boy finally let go.

“You okay, Eds?” Richie shifted his glasses and peered at Eddie’s face, which was embarrassingly red from all the effort.

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie massaged his palm daintily.

“As you wish, Eddie spaghetti.”

“That’s even worse,” Eddie moaned.

“So you’re saying you prefer Eds?” 

“Yes! I mean no, they both suck-“

“No take backs, Eds!” Richie grinned. Eddie sighed- he had walked right into that.

“By the way,” Richie glanced at Eddie’s hand. “I never forgot your last name. It was all part of the prank.”

“I don’t give a damn, idiot.” Eddie huffed, but his heart swelled.

**11 years old**

Eddie was woken up by a muffled scream. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around the room to see his friends sleeping peacefully, all except for-

“What’s wrong?” he whispered to the figure seated on the sleeping bag right next to his. “Hey.” he nudged at Richie with his foot.

“Nothing,” Richie muttered, turning to face him. In the dark, moonlit room, all Eddie could see were Richie’s wide eyes glistening in the dark.

“Rich.” Eddie continued to nudge at Richie with his foot until he would talk.

“It’s just that I had a bad dream. Stupid, really. Nothing to talk about.” Richie waved his hand dismissively.

“I wanna know,” Eddie sat up and yawned. It was really late, his mom would kill him if she knew that he was still awake at this hour of the day. He tucked his blanket up to his chin and shifted his position, bumping shoulders good naturedly with the other boy.

“I just…” Richie sniffled. “Dreamed of a clown. That’s all.” He shot a worried glance at Eddie, and Eddie saw that he had been crying. Eddie didn’t know what to say, so he stayed silent.

“Laugh all you want,” Richie shrugged. “I’m such a baby, I still have nightmares. Go on,” he provoked.

“I don’t feel much like laughing,” Eddie confessed. “Because I have nightmares too.”

Richie raised his brows. “You do?”

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed. “But I dream of different things. Lepers, mostly. And infections.”

“So typical of you,” Richie rolled his eyes.

“Do you think they mean anything?” Eddie looked at Richie, his expression a little frightened.

“Probably not. Don’t worry your pretty head off over them.” Richie grinned at Eddie.

“Shut up,” Eddie muttered, and he felt Richie hitch a sniffle beside him. He looked over and saw that Richie’s eyes were still very red, and very wet.

“Hey,” he reached out and held Richie’s hand in his own, running circles over it with his thumb. “It’s okay, Richie. Don’t sweat it.”

Richie looked down at their linked hands, open his mouth, shut it, and fell silent.

“Thanks, Eds,” he croaked after a while, squeezing Eddie’s hand tight in his own, then letting go.

“It’s okay,” Eddie whispered. He felt Bill shift in his sleep beside him. “You ready to go back to sleep?”

Richie gulped and shrugged. “I guess so.” He glanced up at Eddie. “But could you… could you hold my hand for a while? Makes me feel safe, y’know. That’s it.”

“Of course, dummy,” Eddie scooted back into his sleeping bag, and reached out his hand for Richie’s. They lay there in the dark, all the while Eddie feeling Richie’s sweaty palm digging into his own. He knew how unsanitary it must be, but he didn’t want to let go either. It felt good, it felt safe.

After a while, he heard Richie’s soft snoring, and he quietly untangled his fingers and went into a deep, blissful sleep himself.

**15 years old**

Eddie had been out to buy a new aspirator that day, and he happened to walk through Bassey Park to grab a quick snack before going home. What he saw that made him stop in his tracks was Richie, sitting alone on a bench outside the Arcade, his head in his hands.

“Rich?” he yelled, and when his friend didn’t answer, he decided to approach him.

“Rich!” he exclaimed happily. “What’re you doing here, you ass, waiting for people to wa-“ he stuttered to a halt when he saw that Richie was not returning the enthusiasm. Instead, he still had his head in his hands.  
“What’s up, dude?” he frowned and put a hand on Richie’s shoulder.

“Uh. I landed a nice date with Bowers,” Richie laughed at his own joke, and when he did so he revealed a very black eye and a bunch of deep cuts on his face. Eddie winced and quickly covered up his mouth, feeling bile rise to his throat. This was his worst nightmare, seeing Richie all bloodied and bruised up like that. Richie’s big mouth always got him in trouble, he must’ve blabbed and said something stupid, Eddie cursed silently.

“Why the fuck have you not gotten to a hospital yet!” Eddie couldn’t stop the high pitched, whiny voice that was escaping his mouth. “You can get infected! You can die!”

“Eds, calm down!” Richie’s face scrunched up with worry, and he winced with pain as he did so.

“Don’t ‘Eds’ me right now, asshole, I’m getting you to a hospital.” Without thinking, Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand. To his surprise, Richie flinched away.

“Wha-“ Eddie stammered.

“Don’t do that shit!” Richie gritted his teeth and winced.

“Do what?” Eddie blinked, confused and a little bit hurt.

“THIS!” Richie gestured to his hand. “It’s so…” he looked around nervously, making sure no one was nearby. “…gay,” Richie hissed out the word.

“I’m trying to help you, you absolute asswipe!” Eddie felt his cheeks go red. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re fucking bleeding right now.”

“Yeah, you didn’t need to hold my fucking hand to do that!” Richie growled.

“Just get off your ass and go to the hospital!” Eddie was basically pleading right now. He was scared, he had never seen Richie acting so irrationally.

“You know what Bowers called me, Eds?” Richie stood up now, and he was shaking with rage. “He called me a dirty fag. And he beat me up for it.”  
“Rich, you know what he says doesn’t mean anything,” Eddie soothed, patting Richie gingerly on the shoulder. “When do we ever listen to Bowers? He’s just lying, Rich. Don’t listen to his lies.”

Richie winced and bit his trembling lip. “You think so, Eds?”  
“Yes,” Eddie crooned. “He’s making it up, you know he assumes the worst of us. You’re not… like that, Rich. You know that. I know that.”

At this, Richie flinched from Eddie’s touch and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I gotta… go, Eds. I’ll see you around.”

“What-“ Eddie reeled. “Wait!” He hurried after Richie, who was power walking away from him. It was hard, because Richie’s legs were much longer.

“You’re hurt! You’re bleeding!” He could hear the panic rising in his voice, he sounded oh so pathetic. “Richie, let me help you!”

“I’ll be fine,” Richie said, and then broke off into a run. After chasing him for two blocks, Eddie felt his throat tightening up, and he had to stop to take a pump from his aspirator. His legs seared painfully from the running, but Eddie thought that his heart hurt more.

**17 years old**

“You’re on babysitting duty,” Stan muttered into his ear, and Eddie grumbled.

“Again?” he groaned.

“Every other Saturday, that’s the rule.” The fucker was grinning ear to ear. “And I get to have a night off, knowing that I don’t have the life of another person weighing on my shoulders.” He turned and walked right towards the bookcase. Of course.

Stan didn’t drink, and neither did Eddie, him because of religious reasons and Eddie because of health concerns (did you know that drinking alcohol can shrivel your liver?) This effectively made them the only sober members of the Losers Club every Saturday at their house parties. Which also made them default babysitters for the worst drunk of them all.

“Richie!” Eddie snapped and put a hand to his chest. “You’ve had three shots already. Time to drink some water.”

“Really?” Richie slurred. “Three sh-shots?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie nodded.

“Only?”

“Goddamn you Rich, drink some fucking water before you fucking pass out.” Eddie practically forced a cup of water down Richie’s throat, causing him to gag.

“Ok…ay, you fucking loon!” He laughed and then chugged down an entire cup of beer in one go. Eddie sighed. This was hopeless.

So he basically chatted with Bill all night, shared some sweet eye rolls with Stan, and occasionally checked up on Richie.

“Fuck you!” Richie slurred as Eddie emptied his shot glass in the sink. “Thass some expensive shit Kaspbrak!”

“No it’s not, it’s 7 dollars and Bev got it on discount from the drugstore.” Eddie snapped. “Now get your shit together because we’re leaving right now.”

He ended up having to half drag, half carry a drunken Richie away from Bill’s home, and that’s how they always ended up every other Saturday night, bickering nonsense on the streets of Derry.

“You don’t… know how to have any fun, Eds!” Richie swerved dangerously on the pavement, and Eddie gripped his arm.

“And look how I’m doing!” he exclaimed. “Sober, like a normal person. While you are a drunken mess who’s safety depends on a friend who really fuckin hates you right now.”

Richie stopped in his tracks and stared at Eddie. “You… hate me?” His face fell, and his jousty behavior quickly faded away.

“Yes I hate you. No, I’m fucking kidding Rich. Why else would I bring you home, idiot? Now come on.” He grabbed Richie’s arm, but he still wouldn’t budge.

“I’m sorry.” Richie bit his lip and stared emptily at the pavement. Eddie rolled his eyes.  
“I don’t hate you Rich! Now get your ass moving before I-“

“I’m sorry.” Richie repeated and stared at Eddie with big puppy dog eyes. “I’m such a fucking burden, I know. Fucking trashmouth, says all the wrong things at the wrong time. Can’t crack a good joke to save his life.”

“No!” Eddie crooned, knowing what he was hearing was only drunk talk and nothing more.

“You fucking hate me Eds, hate my guts!”

“I don’t hate you, Richie,” Eddie hugged his friend tightly. “I don’t hate you at all. ’S matter of fact, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Richie nuzzled his face into Eddie’s shoulders, and Eddie felt his whole body flush pink. Drunk talk, he reminded himself.

“I could never hate you, even though you can be very annoying at times.” Eddie patted Richie’s back soothingly.

“I fucking love you Eds, you don’t un…derstand,” Richie slurred, slumping into Eddie now.

“Me too, Rich,” Eddie patted Richie’s hair and combed through his soft strands. He was very aware that they were standing in the middle of the street at night, which must be quite strange, but he couldn’t care less. This was more important, in a way. Richie was more important.

“Love you so m-much,” Richie squeezed Eddie’s frame tight. “Ugh, I’m so sleepy.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me!” Eddie warned, untangling Richie from himself. Richie’s eyes were drooped, he looked a mess.

“I’m taking you to my home tonight,” he decided. “We’re sneaking in through the back door. So stay awake, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?”  
“Whatever you say,” Richie shrugged. For good measure, Eddie slipped his hand through Richie’s. So the absolute buffoon wouldn’t stumble and trip, of course.

“Like it when you hold my hand, Eds,” Richie grinned at Eddie, and Eddie felt the same unmistakable wave of heat wash over him again. He couldn’t help but flicker his gaze down to Richie’s lips, and they looked so incredibly plump and sweet. If only Eddie could-

“Just make sure you don’t fall on your ass.” Eddie grumbled, gazing away, cheeks flushed red. He held tight to Richie’s hand all the way home, the image of his lips still dancing at the back of his mind as he fell asleep that night.


End file.
